


Pitch Perfect

by StarlitShadowHuntress



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Music, First Meetings, Gen, Otabek plays the piano, Victor and Yuri are brothers, Victor plays the boys, Yuri plays the violin, and is played by Yuuri, implied/referenced victuuri, mila is a badass woman in STEM, russian skate family mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 12:15:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9896054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlitShadowHuntress/pseuds/StarlitShadowHuntress
Summary: In which Yuri P. practices for their next concert in a practice room in the performing arts building, and a stranger is unable to walk away from the music.





	

Orchestra practice always went one way or the other. Either they went super well and he gained another first violin part to tuck away for the next concert, or they went terribly, he got bumped to second chair, and his brother changed the password to any and all social media accounts until he got better and won back the spot.

Curse Victor’s unorthodox methods of motivation. At least he didn't starve the cat.

He really needed to stop writing down his passwords on stickies and keeping them within arms reach of his laptop, too, it just made Victor’s job that much easier.

Maybe he could appeal to kat-sucky? His stupid brother’s equally dumb boyfriend had him twirled around his little finger, after all. If he looked miserable enough, maybe the other Yuuri could work his masculine wiles and get Victor to relent?

Come to think of it, listening to his brother complain about how “Yuuri said he wouldn’t kiss me unless I gave you back your instagram password and it’s all your fault!” for weeks on end might not be any better.

Stupid katsudon. Stupid brothers. Stupid music major. He was out of options.

Guess there was only one thing left for him to do.

To boldly go where no music major has ever gone before.

The practice rooms on the second floor of the performing arts building.

To actually practice.

An hour later, Yuri Plisetsky was about two concertos away from personally building a time machine and strangling Vivaldi and Bach. Mila was an engineer, one year away from getting her ring and all that. She could tell him about any faults in warping the space-time continuum before he actually tried it. It might take a few weeks of him becoming her personal bench press, but it would be worth it in the end, if it meant that this stupid sixteen measure run had never been invented.

Setting those aside with a rough shove, Yuri drew from his folder a piece that he had actually finished years ago, but liked to keep around to pull out at parties. Allegro Appassionato in B minor. Known best for its difficulty and heart pounding intensity.

Known commonly amongst violinists as “oh my god why would you put yourself through that hell willingly is everything okay do we need to get you to a counsellor?”.

Perfect for finding his musical flow again.

Pulling out his phone, he scrolled through his music playlists until he found the song, with the violin part cut out, so that he could play along with the music without having the recorded violin throwing him off.

He lifted his violin to his chin and waited for the music to reach that familiar drop, the slight allargando, then the a tempo.

He began to play in time with the recording, fingers flying across the fingerboard with each run, breathing only when the clarinet part began, then starting again, high on the E string, down the notes, then up again. Loud, louder, rest for a bar, descending scales, pianissimo. Finally, a slow part, his vibrato fine as ever. The long notes sustained over the frenzied piano, then more runs, spicatto with a crescendo, the piano’s final run upwards, then chord after chord until, with a flourish, he threw his bow off of the strings, a satisfying echo ringing in the small room. Satisfied, he checked his phone for anything new. There was one missed call and a text from Victor.

“Are you practicing yet? Mila says hi, and also, that if you don’t win back first violin, she’s turning your tumblr into a shrine for MIT.”

Oh god. The last time Mila had done that as an April fools’ joke, he had lost fifteen followers. With his tiny blog, those were people whose interests he  _ could not _ afford to lose. He refused to have his blog followed exclusively by spambots. He wiped the sweat from his brow before going back to his music folder.

At least, he would have, if the scratching by the door hadn’t distracted him.

Yuri turned around to see a sheet of white paper on the floor, with a message on it in black felt.

**That was beautiful to listen to. If it’s not too much to ask, could I make a humble request to the musician for an excerpt from Samarkand Overture?**

Well, Yuri Plisetsky was nothing if not a narcissist who lived off of the feedback dealt by others around him. That song sounded unfamiliar to him, so he tried to look up the sheet music for it. Maybe he could try sight reading it?

Three almost-downloaded viruses later, a defeated Yuri took his tiger striped pen (it was a gift from katsudon’s friend, Phichit. It didn’t mean that he cared about either of them.) and scribbled out a quick message before sliding it under the door.

_ I’m afraid I don’t have the sheet music for that, sorry. Anything else? _

Were they even still on the other side of the door? What if he had taken too long to try and find the sheet music that the stranger had left?

The sheet of paper slid back to Yuri’s side of the door.

**That sucks. :( Do you have Beethoven’s symphony No. 9, movement 2, “Advent”?**

_ I left most of my Beethoven at home. _

**Man, you don’t have anything good? Does this mean that I have to request Canon in D?**

Yuri snorted. 

_Even_ _ if you did request it, I wouldn’t play it. That song is for sappy weddings and amateur violinists who are scared of pain. _

**That’s a shame.**

_ I guess. How are you even listening to me play anyway? My brother told me these rooms were soundproof. _

**Do you really think, that in rooms without security cameras, in a place that caters mostly to students aged 17-25, some of whom are in relationships with others, the practice rooms would be soundproofed?**

_ Well, when you put it that way… Still though, where else do our student loans go? _

**Gee, in between paying the profs, and ensuring performance venues can be booked, I’d say that improving the quality of the practice rooms is not a top priority.**

_ Fair, but I’m supposed to be practicing, and I’m supposed to be using this room to practice. _

**Don’t let me stop you. How about you play one of your favourite songs?**

_ I guess I could. _

Yuri picked up his violin again. Closing his eyes, he started to play Crystallize. He had this memorized from a long time ago(his emo phase), after all. Unfortunately, he got really into the music, and the melody stopped when he kicked his leg up in an imitation of Stirling and accidentally hit the music stand, cursing as he almost dropped his violin when he reached for his foot. As he poked at the toe of his shoe, he saw the paper return to his side of the door.

**Are you okay? I heard everything that went down. Are you dying?**

_ I’m fine. Just stubbed my toe. _

**Sounded like you hit a music stand or something.**

_ What if I did? _

**I’d come in and carry you to the kinesiology building so that a bunch of nursing students could check you out.**

_ Gross. I’ll pass. I’m fine. I’ll go back to practicing. Even Bach is more appealing than getting carried halfway across campus. _  He checked the time on his phone before writing again .  _Do you have a lecture after this hour is over?_

**Well, I do have a lecture in about ten minutes in a completely different building, maybe it’s about time I headed out. Will I be hearing you at the next concert?**

_ Of course you will. _

**How will I know it’s you, though?**

Yuri blanched. This stranger really wanted to hear him play again that badly? That was a surprise, considering how he had just embarrassed himself by kicking a music stand, and couldn’t play any pieces that the stranger had wanted him to. He chewed on his pen, trying to think of an answer.

What would Victor do?

(Introduce himself to his current boyfriend by using their university confessions page to compliment his finesse with a pole when drunk and then stalking all of the people who liked or tagged their friends in the post until he came across the same boy, and Yuri was not about to do _that_.)

What would Katsucky do?

(Watch and wait in silence for the other to return his feelings, and _pine hopelessly_ in the meantime.)

Mila?

(Probably pine, stalk them on social media, and go through a liking spam on their instagram. Oh yes, ice cream and Netflix romcoms were always involved too.)

Georgi?

(God, he had just gotten over his ex, he wasn’t ready to reenter the dating scene yet. Yuri wasn't even going to go there.)

There had to be a way.

A fresh sheet of paper slid under the door crack. 

**Well, are you going to become friends with me, or not?**

_ Of course I do! I just don’t know how we’ll find each other after the concert ends! There’s like, 50 violinists! _

**I ride a black motorbike. I’ll see you outside the concert venue 15 minutes after it ends? Take you out for milkshakes and curly fries?**

A motorbike? Holy Haydn. Milkshakes and curly fries? Hell to the yes. That was the definition of cool.

_ Sure. Sounds like it’ll be fun. I’ll see you then. _

**Could I get a name before then?**

_ Sure. Yuri Plisetsky. _

**Cool. Otabek Altin. I'll be leaving now, good luck with your practice. :)**

Two weeks (and some social media stalking, too bad Otabek had zero pictures of his face online) later, Yuri left the concert a proud first violinist, and sat proudly in the front row, so take that, Victor. The concert pianist was different this time. A friend of Jean's, who must have been struck with a cold or something, thank god. He always tried the cheesiest musical pickup lines on random musicians, and Yuri was a common target due to his proximity to the piano. Just because Jean and his girl were in an open relationship, didn't mean that anybody else wanted to hop on, and Yuri definitely didn't.

They had only managed a quick run through of each piece before the show to get the orchestra used to Jean's replacement, but he had managed to pick up all of their cues just fine. His eyes were always focused on the music, and it seemed like he only breathed when he wasn't playing. It wasn't that he made the music effortless, quite the opposite in fact. He played, Yuri observed, like a man on a mission. Each note was given a purpose and a weight. It really made the audience respect the difficulty of the music that they were playing.

With that determination, it was surprising that he hadn’t outshone JJ a long time ago.

He went outside after packing up as quickly as he could, ignoring Victor’s congratulatory screaming, Katsudon’s polite offer of a hug, and ducking before Mila could scoop him up and make Georgi ask him about his post-concert plans. Perched on a motorcycle by the front door, was a man about his age, a bike helmet on his head, and holding another in his hands. The pianist from the concert. Seeing the violin case strapped to Yuri’s back, he tossed the helmet to Yuri.

“Yuri Plisetsky, I’ll assume?”

“Only if you’re Otabek Altin.”

“Ready for milkshakes? My treat.”

“Are you sure?”

“After such an amazing show, it’d be rude not to.” his mouth quirked up in a lopsided grin. “But if you really did want to pay, just learn Samarkand Overture for me, and we’ll duet.”

Yuri stuck his hand out for the taller man to shake. “Promise to post that cover on all of your social media accounts, and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Inspired by  
> http://www.lemonsharks.net/post/142876245033/classicstarlite-actualmodel-one-of-my  
> https://www.facebook.com/TwoSetViolin/videos/634989779938727/


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